


Home

by MiathiBlue



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, and Keith doesn't understand people, basically Keiths had a pretty shit life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiathiBlue/pseuds/MiathiBlue
Summary: A three part exploration drabble of Keiths experiences with belonging and home. This fic is headcannon heavy, and was written mainly for myself. Posted before S3.Formatted to fit my rp blog style.





	1. Alone

Leaving the Garrison was one of the easiest decisions he'd ever made. He let people believe that it was because of Shiros death, that the grief consumed him and left no room for anything else. It was easier than trying to explain _the truth._

They liked to say he was a difficult child. _Maybe he was._ **Maybe they made him that way.**

His record was a week, a particularly uptight couple who had picked him for his big eyes and slender form. They didn't like it when he **scowled** , they didn't like that he **preferred to be alone,** and they certainly didn't like it when they found him **smoking** behind the garage. The shouting had lasted four hours, climaxing in a call to the agency with the familiar claim of _'he's too difficult.'_

When he figured out he was gay, they took him from that family among the sounds of sirens. He remembered the ice on his cheek, the holy water curling the ends of his hair. **He deserved that one.** He'd fucked the boy next door on the couch.

Those ones were **forgettable**. Easy to dismiss, easy to move on. The hardest ones were where he thought maybe he could stay, tentatively opening up until the window was _slammed on his fingers_ , leaving him alone again. Too difficult, they said. Too much _trouble_ , too _angry_ , too _closed off_ , too _private_ -

There were a lot of them, too much for Keith to keep up with. So he stopped trying. They never really understood anyway.

And then there **was** Shiro.

And then there **wasn't**.

**It hurt.**

He'd let himself get close, believe that this one could be different, because Shiro had felt more like family than anyone the agency had given him too. He'd joined the Garrison under his urging, found something he excelled at. He'd found **direction** thanks to Shiro, an anchor in the turbulence of his life.

But then Shiro died. And they said it was his own fault.

The first time Iverson said that, Keith saw **red**.

He came back to himself with blood on his knuckles and a snarl in his throat, vibrating with a fury that refused to give way to grief. He knew then that he couldn't stay, that the walls would choke the life from him long before they would let him go.

There was nobody to miss him when he left.


	2. Belonging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The year in the desert.

Sometimes, Keith tilted his head back and breathed _smoke_ like he was trying to blow away the clouds. Sometimes he let the stars _fill_ his vision, _blurring_ and _spinning_ until the sun chased them back into darkness. In the desert there was nothing to stop his thoughts, _racing_ and _overlapping_ and _clambering_ and above all else the **energy** -

It went a little like this.

**Keith knew he didn’t belong here.**

He knew about family. He remembered his father (screams sung to the sound of flames), if nothing of his mother. He remembered above all else, being happy. He knew that nowhere since had felt like that, no human had ever looked at him like they understood. Even Shiro didn’t understand, although he tried.

Keith watched humans, hovering outside the crowd close enough to bloody his knuckles but never invited in. They confused him with kindness and judged him in the next sentence. They laughed and sang and spoke of love and friendship, taunting him with family and home.

He knew war, he knew conflict. He’d **read** it, **seen** it, **lived** it. _A hypersocial species_ , humans were called, and Keith saw it in the way they spoke, in the very way they moved. Despite all that blood, all the hate, it was there, in the very way humanity had evolved, in groups, in packs, _family_ , _**home**_ -

Keiths home was silence, isolation without another soul as far as the eye could see. It was the sun beating against his shoulders and a pull in his gut, a pleading song of he is close, close, _bring him to me, come, I need him_

The energy called him, filled his thoughts even while singing for someone else. It sang of water and family and the stars, and something in Keith _longed_ , held back only by the taste in his throat, wrong, _wrong_ , _**wrong,** **where is he**_

But Keith still went because -

Because somehow it made Keith feel **bigger**. It made him feel he could just reach out and take it, that something he didn’t understand, the something he’d given up on a long time ago. It made him feel like he could _engulf the stars_ , like the fire that burned in his blood could _ignite_ and **swallow him whole**.

_But it wasn’t for him._

Something was coming. He could feel it in his bones.

Keith waited.


	3. Chapter 3

And then there was _Shiro_ again, and _Lance_ , and _Hunk_ , and _Pidge_ , and the energy was a giant _Blue Lion,_ and - -

There hadn’t been time to **process** , barely enough time for _holy shit Shiros alive, he’s here,_ before he was standing in front of his mysterious energy, feeling it cut off as its eyes tracked the loudmouth next to him. The loss was easy, he had known right from the beginning that it **wasn’t his** , just a string between two forces that couldn’t be kept apart. Then there was the _Castle_ , and _aliens_ , and - -

And there was Red, _acceptance_ and _glee_ and _power_ all at once, perfect in a way Blue had never felt, and he’d pick this a **thousand** times over - -

She was there, **always** , her song rough with reckless delight and burning determination. He could feel it **vibrating** in his blood, _shaking_ his bones and leave him _breathless_ with the **strength** of her conviction. It was a _partnership_ , a bond that he would protect until his dying breath. When he felt the thought returned, his breath caught and he had to stop so his shaking knees didn’t give way. Nobody had ever, _nobody_ -

**But that wasn’t all.**

They were a team. Keith was familiar with the idea of teams, _a group of people working towards a common goal,_ he recited. They were a team that worked, rough edges and sometimes moments of utter **brilliance**. That part was easy. The part that wasn’t…

It was claps on the back, quiet smiles, _are you okay, did you sleep last night, do you want to train._ It was experimental cooking, proud hugs, companionable late nights, teasing smirks and _trust_ , trust in **him** , trust in **them**.

He didn’t know what it meant when the mere **idea** of someone leaving sent a burning shaft of _pain_ through his heart, when seeing one of them _broken_ inside a cyropod left his fingers _twitching_ as the urge to **scream** welled up inside him. _‘Well dones’_ made him want to smile, soft grins made him soften, gentle pleas made his anger _melt away_. He had them all **cataloged**. He didn’t understand, but –

He watched humans. He watched aliens.

They **confused** him with kindness, and **explained** in the next breath. They laughed and sang and spoke of _love_ and _friendship_ , taking his hands and bringing him in where it was warm.

Keith let the stars fill his vision, _blurring_ and _spinning_ within his grasp and he let them **go**. In space there was his team to stop his thoughts from racing, and he watched them laugh, _bright_ and _alive_.

He _wondered_ , is this what it was to be home?


End file.
